


Linguistics 101

by CaitrionaBalfeStan



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:29:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29925882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaitrionaBalfeStan/pseuds/CaitrionaBalfeStan
Summary: Claire Beauchamp is a star medical student and new transplant to the University of Glasgow. When a mix-up of classes occurs, she finds herself partnered up with fellow student Jamie Fraser in a linguistics course.She finds him charming and grows to love working together. He finds her irresistible and searches for any way to get closer.The only problem is... she's engaged.
Relationships: Claire - Relationship, Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 20
Kudos: 110





	Linguistics 101

**Author's Note:**

> New story!!! 
> 
> I got this idea the other night and I'm not sure where it's gonna go but it'll hopefully go somewhere. I mean, it's basically just mutual pining that they don't know is mutual and all that goes with it.
> 
> Ignore how incorrect a lot of the processes are at this University. I'm loosely basing it off of my own, and since I definitely don't live in and don't attend the University of Glasgow, I'm just going to do what I want to make it work for the sake of the story.
> 
> Enjoy!

“What the _bloody_ hell!” Claire exclaims at the email.

“What’s the matter, darling?” Frank replies, absently, still typing at his computer. Claire drops her head into her hands for a moment, in a poor attempt to regain her composure. With a heaving sigh, she lifts her gaze to Frank across the table from her who was squinting behind his glasses at the screen.

“My advisor just told me I need to take some ridiculous linguistics class this semester. In _addition_ to all the other useless ones I need.” Claire pinches the bridge of her nose to try and ease the oncoming headache. “This is absolutely ludicrous! I’m a bloody medical student for Christ’s sake! Why do I need a linguistics class?”

“Don’t you need to take at least one Latin class before graduating?” Frank asks, peering up at her.

“Well, Latin, yes. Linguistics… no.” she huffs. “Those are very different things,”

“I’m aware,” Frank resumes his typing, effectively ending the conversation. Claire sighs again and slams the lid of her laptop closed. Frank gives her an exasperated look over the rim of his glasses, raising his eyebrows in questions. “Pouting about it won’t make the situation any better. You chose to do this.” Claire purses her lips and crosses her arms defensively.

“I know that,” she says, sharply. “It’s just frustrating that they keep throwing these pointless fucking classes at me.”

“Maybe a linguistics class will do you some good. You need to ascertain some more appropriate language, love,” he smirks. Claire doesn’t share the humor he finds in this situation.

“That’s not what linguistics is, _love_ ,” she answers, imitating his previous statement.

“I know that,” he retorts, now imitating her. Again, Frank turns his attention back to the computer, stopping the discussion for good. Claire snatches her things from their shared kitchen table and stalks over to her shoes by the door.

“I’m going to campus to sort this out,” she doesn’t wait for a reply, instead grabbing her bag and walking out into the flat hall, slamming the door for good measure.

* * *

Claire stands in the long line of students in the advising office, not so patiently waiting her turn at the front. Her fingers tapping anxiously on her phone while the line moves at a snail's pace ahead of her. 

Claire Beauchamp -soon to be Claire Randall,- is a first-year medical student at the University of Glasgow School of Medicine. She would much rather have stayed home in England. Preferably at Oxford, where she obtained her Bachelor’s and Master's degrees, but Frank was irrevocably drawn to Scotland and all of its charms. Charms that she has yet to discover or appreciate, much to his dismay.

At twenty-four years old, Claire knew that she was still well ahead of many others who dream of becoming a trauma surgeon. However, she couldn’t help but feel as if she’s dreadfully behind, having to completely start over in not only a brand new school but an entirely different country as well. She’d been to Scotland several times when she was a child. Her parents often went to the coast during the summer when she was on break from school. While she doesn’t have any particularly bad memories from any of her trips -barring the time a young boy had accidentally thrown a rugby ball into the tire of her bike, resulting in six stitches in her left leg,- Scotland wasn’t her place. Frank assures her that in time she will begin to feel as he does but for now-

“Next!” calls the stout older woman at the advising desk. The line had shrunk considerably, so Claire bounced over to the woman. “How can I help ye?”

“I need to speak with an MD advisor, please,” Claire asks with a polite smile, despite the flood of annoyance coursing through her.

“Aye, just a moment.” the woman, whose nameplate reads _Glenna Fitzgibbons_ , clicks her computer mouse a few times. “What’s yer name, lass?’

“Claire Beauchamp,” Glenna types away for a minute, then withdraws a slip of paper from the printer.

“Alright, Miss Beauchamp, the soonest I can get ye in wi’ a medical advisor is about two hours from now.” Claire gapes while Glenna hands her the slip with a time printed on the front. “Is there anything else I can help with?”

“Two hours?” Claire struggles not to shout. “Why on earth is it going to take two hours?”

“Yer no’ the only medical student here, lass,” Glenna responds, patiently. “Lots of others are havin’ issues.”

“I understand that but I was put into this absurd class that has nothing to do with my degree and-”

“What’s the class then?” she interrupts.

“It’s some linguistics course,” Claire says, wishing desperately to have this all over with.

“I can put ye wi’ a linguistics advisor and see if there’s anything he can do for ye in the meantime.” Glenna pulls another slip of paper from the printer and hands it over to Claire. “Does that work?” Claire takes the paper carefully.

“I guess it can’t hurt,” she says, slowly. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. This isn’t your fault, I’m just stressed about it all.” Glenna smiles again and gently pats Claire’s hand that’s resting on the counter.

“Dinna apologize, Miss Beauchamp, I understand.” Claire returns the smile and hoists her bag higher on her shoulder. “Go down the hall to the right and it’s the first door on yer left. You’ll be seeing Dr. Murtagh Fraser from the language department.”

Claire thanks the woman and heads down the correct hallway. She honestly doesn’t think there’s anything that this man can do, given that he’s not affiliated with the medical department, but it might be worth a shot.

She turns the corner and instantly hears raucous laughter coming from the room she’s supposed to be entering. Halting right out of view of the door, she takes a deep breath and steels herself to deal with what already sounds like a cacophony of loud, irritating men. Running a hand through her hair, she steps into the room.

The laughter dies down and three pairs of eyes all turn toward her simultaneously. A tall, older man pushes his chair back from a desk and walks over to her.

“I take it yer Miss Beauchamp then? Dr. Murtagh Fraser. A pleasure to meet ye.” he asks, sticking out a hand. She grasps it and notes that he has a surprisingly strong handshake.

“Yes sir. I assume Mrs. Fitzgibbons sent you a message?” Dr. Fraser waves a dismissive hand in the air.

“Ach, lass, call me Murtagh,” he says, kindly. Claire begins to feel a pang of slight guilt at immediately thinking poorly of the man. Within these first few seconds of meeting him, she already feels some of her stress ebbing away. What he says in regards to this issue may change that feeling, however. “Apparently, it’s bring yer family to work day today, so before we get started let me introduce ye to my Godsons. On the left there is Willie, and on the right is our very own Chris Paterson.” the handsome red-headed man named Willie bursts out a loud guffaw while the one on the right flushes a bright red, almost matching the hue of his hair.

“Lay off him, ye coot.” says a still chuckling Willie to his equally as amused Godfather. “I think puir, wee Jamie has had enough.” Jamie casts a glare at who Claire assumes to be his brother, that is just as playful as it is serious.

“I’m sorry, lad, but that story gets me every time.” Murtagh wipes away a tear from his face and pats Jamie good-naturedly on the shoulder.

“Maybe ye’ should help Miss Beauchamp wi’ her problem now,” he says, jokingly shrugging off the man's hand. “Enough talk about my failed rugby career.” 

“Aye, lass, I’m sorry.” Murtagh tears himself away from the two nearly identical men and sits back down at his desk. Claire smiles, curtly, and sits down in the chair across from him. “What seems to be the issue?”

“You see, I’m a medical student but I was put into a linguistics course for absolutely no reason.” Murtagh widens his eyes and nods appreciatively.

“A medical student, eh? That’s braw. What are ye hopin’ to specialize in?” he asks.

“Trauma surgery,” she answers. “So I don’t see how a class about the origin of language will help me at all. Can it be switched for a Latin class or something? I know I need to take that.” 

“Which professor did ye get put with?” Jamie chimes in from behind me.

“Erm, I don’t remember the first name but the email said a Dr. Grey… I think it was.” when Claire locks her eyes onto Jamie’s, he sits up a bit taller, straightening his shoulders. He licks his lips and for a moment Claire thinks he looks almost… nervous?

“Aye, that’ll be Dr. Harold Grey. He’s a great professor,” he says, bordering on too quick to understand. “He’s been a great help to me since I started my Ph.D. here.”

“He sounds lovely but I don’t see how that makes a difference really.” at her words, Jamie slumps slightly and she can just barely see Willie kick him subtly under the table. He doesn't react to his brother, only nodding along with her words. “I just really want to get this all sorted.”

“I found yer problem, Miss Beauchamp.” Murtagh interrupts her looking at Jamie. “It appears that CLRC 101 is all filled up for this semester and since it’s a fall-only course they put ye into the next best thing.”

“Can’t I just take it next year?” Claire asks, desperately.

“I’m afraid no’,” Murtagh says with clear sympathy in his kind eyes. “Ye need to have finished the intro to med term by the end of yer first year and it has a prerequisite of either CLRC 101 or LING 212. Those are yer only options.”

Claire pleads with the man for nearly ten minutes to find another option but to no avail. It’s not that she has any opposition to the course, in fact, she knows it will be somewhat interesting but it won’t advance her career in any way. She doesn’t see the point in wasting time in or studying for this class that ultimately won’t provide any useful knowledge.

“I wish there was something I could do,” Murtagh clasps his hands together on top of the desk and sighs. “If it’s any consolation, I can try to move ye to the class block wee Jamie here is in. He’s gettin’ his doctorate in linguistics and could help ye through it if that’s what you’re nervous about.”

Claire briefly glances back over to Jamie who is now enthralled in a quiet conversation with his brother, gesturing wildly with his hands. She’s known him for hardly fifteen minutes but he seems nice enough. It also might be beneficial to have some connection with at least one other student. Him having a solid base in this subject wouldn’t hurt either.

“That would be fine,” she exhales.

“I truly am sorry there’s no’ more I could do. However, I promise with Jamie by yer side ye have nothing to fret over.”

* * *

Jamie watched Claire from the corner of his eye while she gathered her things and left his Godfather’s office. Willie went silent for a few seconds, waited until she was well out of earshot before exclaiming-

“Wee Jamie is in love!” Jamie doesn’t hesitate to shove his older brother off of the rolling chair and onto the ground.

“Shut yer fuckin’ mouth!” he says in a harsh whisper. “What if she heard ye? And I’m no’ in love wi’ her. I just met her!”

“Yer heart eyes are tellin’ another story,” Willie teased from the floor.

“Aye, she’s bonny but that doesna’ mean I want to propose to the lass.” Jamie was in fact feeling quite the opposite. The moment she stepped into the room he felt all the air leave his body and wasn’t able to breathe properly for several seconds. Willie doesn’t need to know that though.

“She’s smart too,” says Murtagh, looking into his computer screen. “She was top of her class at Oxford for her Bachelor’s _and_ her Masters. Ye’ could do a lot worse, lad.”

“Both of ye are incorrigible,” huffs Jamie. “Complete dafties, ye are.”

“The only daft one here is you, Sawny.” Willie had gotten up from the floor and is now holding a phone in his hand. “She left her phone here. I should go give it back to her.”

“No!” Jamie shouts, shooting up so hard the chair beneath him crashes to the ground. Willie raises his eyebrows and grins. Jamie clears his throat and wipes his hands on his jeans. “I should take it since we’re gonna be classmates soon,” he sticks his hand out and Willie drops it to him with a chuckle.

“As ye say,” Jamie ruffles his curls and quickly jogs out of the room but not before hearing Willie’s voice say, “From Chris Paterson to Nicholas Sparks.” he rolls his eyes, even though no one can see him, and exits the advising hall. 

While silently praying that she hasn’t already gotten into her car and driven away, he spots her at the exit of the building, muttering curses into her backpack. He catches his breath for a second and wishes he had stopped to look in a mirror before coming out here.

“I dinna think calling yer bag those names will help ye find this,” her head snaps up at his voice, wild, curly hair that was in a bun minutes ago now framing her face. 

“Oh, thank God,” she zips her bag back up and grabs the phone from him. “I swear I’d forget my head next if it wasn’t on my body.” she laughs. It’s such a beautiful sound to Jamie his heart skips a beat.

“Glad I could help, Miss Beauchamp.” 

“Call me Claire, please.” she shakes her head, again making her curls bounce, hypnotizing Jamie.

“Claire,” he repeats. “It was nice to meet ye.”

“You too,” she reaches out a hand to shake his, her skin perfectly soft. “I hope you weren’t too offended by my distaste of linguistics.”

“Dinna fash,” he hopes his voice sounds steady to her, because to him it feels as if it’s rattling out of his chest. “I’m lookin’ forward to class wi’ ye.”

“Me too,” she smiles, tentatively. “It should hopefully be interesting.”

“I canna promise much, but I can say it’s verra fascinating.”

“Well, I would hope you think so. Since you are getting a doctorate for it and all.” she giggles. Her phone pings and she reads what appears to be a text message. “Oh, sorry, I have to dash, but I’ll see you soon, Jamie.” she waves and walks from the building, placing her phone against her ear in a call.

_“Aye,”_ Jamie thinks with a soft grin. _“Fascinating, indeed.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed it! Please leave any ideas or recommendations you may have! 
> 
> Love you all very much!! <3


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